


The Secret Ingredient

by Bakageta



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Canon-Typical Body Horror, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24552697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bakageta/pseuds/Bakageta
Summary: Somehow the pancake was better than the frozen ones even though they were both chocolate chip flavored, had nearly the same ingredients, and were drowned in the same amount of chocolate syrup. Eddie’s pancakes were fluffy and soft in a way that the frozen pancakes had never managed.“It’s ‘cause of the secret ingredient,” Eddie said when he noticed their attention.What is the secret ingredient?They asked, not bothering to hide their suspicion.“It’s love,” Eddie pronounced grandly.That sounds like bullshit, Eddie.
Relationships: Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote
Comments: 47
Kudos: 481





	The Secret Ingredient

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redredribbons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redredribbons/gifts).



> This was written for one of redredribbon's prompts that was originally from the 2019 Holiday Exchange. I loved all of their prompts and I wanted to fill them all.
> 
> The prompt was: The whole concept of (non-violent) touch is brand new to Venom-- he's never experienced this prior to Eddie, but it turns out Venom loves it. So, something with touch-starved Venom and Eddie indulging them. The touching doesn't have to be sexual in nature (but can be if the author wants to go that route).
> 
> This also fills the square for 'Getting Physical: Touching Hugging And Cuddling' on my [bingo card](https://bakageta.dreamwidth.org/288.html)!
> 
> Thanks to [sajastar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sajastar) for betaing!

“Hey,” Eddie patted at his right flank where Venom was currently inspecting the scar on his liver where his gallbladder used to be.

They shifted against Eddie’s diaphragm, giving his exhale an extra bit of force, and listened idly. They were more interested in deciding if they should regrow Eddie’s gallbladder or not than they were in the breakfast Eddie was cooking. He had been living without it for over a decade now, so it obviously wasn’t one of the many, many vital human organs, but maybe it would be useful to have again? Their diet was, among other things, rich in fats and the extra stored bile could make digestion more efficient.

“You paying attention?” Just because he was improving didn’t mean Eddie always caught their physical cues. “Cause it doesn’t feel like it.”

 **I am able to focus on more than one thing at a time.** Implying that Eddie couldn’t, and Eddie picked up on that easily.

“I can too!” Eddie spluttered, “Just look’it me: talking to to you and not burning the pancakes.”

He flipped one of the chocolate chip pancakes on the electric griddle in front of them to reveal its fluffy, speckled underbelly, as if that would prove anything. Venom did not understand why Eddie insisted on making fresh pancakes instead of heating the ones they had in a box in the freezer.

**You should not count our pancakes before they are cooked.**

“And that’s not how that saying goes at all.” 

**It still works,** Venom said, distracted. They could easily handle any inflammation that might happen if they did regrow Eddie’s gallbladder, and any stones that developed would be crunchy, like rock candy or wrist bones.

“True.” Eddie lifted up the edge of the second pancake he had poured and judged it not golden brown enough. “But anyway, I had a question.”

 **Of course.** In their experience, Eddie always had questions. Usually they were only wondering bits of thought that, at most, got scribbled into his notepad. Sometimes Eddie answered his own questions, and sometimes they were rhetorical, but Eddie always had questions. Venom liked this about him, liked that Eddie learned and grew and changed instead of remaining stagnant in his own beliefs.

**I have one as well.**

“Okay, me first then. Why don’t you--” Eddie moved the first pancake onto a plate and flipped the second, “why don’t you come out anymore?”

For a moment Venom was confused. If they were to come out they would suffocate and Eddie couldn't actually mean for them to do that. 

They turned their attention away from the scarred bed of Eddie's liver and skimmed the half thought ideas Eddie had shoved in their direction. He was thinking of the buoy and how exposed it was, and he was thinking of their new apartment with its comfortable furniture and functioning climate control. He was thinking of **_Do not open that_ ** and limbs coated in alien substance, and he was thinking of closed doors, strong locks, and drawn blinds. Are we not enclosed, they interpreted the ideas that run through Eddie’s mind, are we not secure?

Their host was doing one of the contradictory things that Venom had noticed humans doing: he asked one question while thinking of another. They wondered which question they should answer; their past experiences provided no help. Sometimes Eddie was grateful when they answered unvoiced questions and other times he became defensive. It was all based on determinations they had yet to understand and weren’t sure they ever would.

Eddie checked the second pancake.It was done, so he moved it to the plate and stayed quiet to give them time to process the question. It was a technique he had often used in past interviews. Venom knew that even if they had not gone to an interview with Eddie yet.

 **Why should I?** They sought clarification as Eddie poured out more batter.

Eddie’s brain thought of tapping another’s arm, tugging at a sleeve, a slap on a shoulder, fingers trailing over skin, holding hands, arms wrapping around a torso, a kiss in the woods.

“I dunno, man, maybe it gets cramped in there?” Eddie tapped at the bottom of his ribs where the most condensed portion of their mass was still draped over his liver, and sprinkled chocolate chips into the still raw batter.

**It does not.**

“Guess I’m just too comfy then; y’don’t even want to move.” Eddie’s tone was light but in the back of his mind he remembered school and schedules and sports and studying and never, never having time to himself.

There were many ways Venom could respond: they could point out that they moved through Eddie’s body all the time, so they obviously weren't too comfortable, they could ignore whatever question Eddie was trying to ask without actually asking, or they could be direct. 

**Do you want me to come out?**

Eddie had told them to stay hidden when they weren’t at home, and they had not chafed at his restrictions so far. There had been no reason to burst halfway out of their host into combat, and no reason to slip a facsimile of their head out to prove the reality of their existence. Eddie’s life was, it turned out, relatively sedate when he wasn’t preventing an alien invasion. 

The peace had eased the tension that Venom had grown so accustomed to that they hadn’t realized it was there. When they met, Venom had been stringy and thin with stress and hunger. The long, fasting torpor of the asteroid followed immediately by the starvation and oxygen burn of the Life Foundation’s labs had done them no favors. Now, weeks later, their consistency had improved to the point that they suffused Eddie’s entire body easily, condensing naturally wherever they focused their attention.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Eddie said eventually, checking the pancake’s underside. 

_Not if you can’t_ , he thought directly at them. 

Eddie worried for them, Venom realized, and all of his thoughts made much more sense. Humans need shelter and safety, companionship, freedom; all a Klyntar needed was a host. Eddie didn’t know that, though. Venom was more alien to their host than Eddie had ever been to them. They should probably try to fix that, but first…

 **I can,** they told Eddie as they wove out through the ribs and muscle of his right flank, flowed upwards along the planes of his back, and suspended their head over Eddie’s left shoulder.

**“I did not know that I needed to.”**

Eddie went stiff with surprise and nearly hit them with the greasy spatula when his arms clenched up in front of his face.

“Shit, warn a guy when you do stuff like that!” Eddie turned to face them, and Venom obliged him, spooling out further from their emergence and leaving bracing supports along Eddie’s back to prevent destabilization.

 **“I did not know that I needed to.”** They grinned and made sure to use all of their teeth.

“Asshole.” Eddie grumbled, but Venom could feel him reflecting their amusement and trying not to smile.

**"I know you are, but what am I?"**

"A damn twelve year old, apparently."

 **"Rude."** They muttered as Eddie turned away from them and back to the pancakes.

“Learned it from you.”

**“Because I am a great teacher.”**

“Yeah, something like that.” Eddie said with a huff of laughter and added the pancakes to the growing stack. He didn’t say anything else as he portioned out yet more batter and yet more chocolate chips, and eventually Venom decided that Eddie was done talking to them for now.

Their host distracted, Venom sunk back into his abdomen. They left patches of themselves on the surface of Eddie’s skin under his clothes in case he tried to accuse them of running away or something else equally stupid, but the majority of their focus and mass returned to his liver bed. Some scarring was present where Eddie’s gallbladder had been, but it didn’t take much effort to separate and absorb the worst parts. With the scarring taken care of, Venom formed something almost like a tongue in Eddie’s abdomen and licked his liver bed looking for any cellular remains of his gallbladder.

“Can you stop licking my guts? It’s weird,” Eddie demanded as he shuddered and brushed his elbow against the covering of themselves they’d left on his flank. The scratchy sensation of his shirt against their mass was enough to make them shudder and shift back out.

 **That was weirder,** Venom complained as they bubbled up in a layer over the side of Eddie’s shirt, plastering it to his skin. Within their mass the fibers of the shirt were no longer able to bother them.

“Do you have to stick my shirt to me?” Eddie shifted awkwardly as he picked up the plate of pancakes he’d finished while Venom had been distracted trying to find gallbladder cells.

**Yes.**

“Why?” Their host asked as he settled onto their broken in couch, tugging the cloth of the shirt through them. It felt strange, but was nowhere near as unpleasant as when it had been rubbed against them.

 **When it touched me it felt like this,** they prickled the feeling across the skin they covered, **but if I hold it still it does not bother me.**

“Eughh,” Eddie scrunched up his face. Venom thought that they would have made that face too when the shirt touched them if they’d had a face. “That felt like shitty velcro, no wonder you don’t wanna come out. Should I take it off?”

 **You do not have to,** Venom decided after a moment of thought. The worst part had been the unexpected texture, it would not catch them off guard again.

“Let me know if you change your mind, then.” Eddie switched on the television and navigated to the drama they’d been watching for the past week. The station was on a commercial break, but the shifting colors of the advertisements were still interesting even if Venom did not care about any of the products.

 **I will,** they responded because Eddie liked it when they did.

Eddie smiled as he took a bite, just like Venom knew he would, and a flush of pleased hormones filtered into his bloodstream. 

The food distracted them from the commercials. Somehow the pancake was better than the frozen ones even though they were both chocolate chip flavored, had nearly the same ingredients, and were drowned in the same amount of chocolate syrup. Eddie’s pancakes were fluffy and soft in a way that the frozen pancakes had never managed. 

“It’s ‘cause of the secret ingredient,” Eddie said when he noticed their attention.

 **I did not see you add anything that wasn’t in the frozen ones,** Venom tried to remember if Eddie had added something while they were focussed on the logistics of regrowing his gallbladder.

“You’re supposed to ask what the secret ingredient is, V.” Eddie was obviously anticipating something, though Venom could not fathom what.

 **What is the secret ingredient?** They asked, not bothering to hide their suspicion.

“It’s love,” Eddie pronounced grandly.

**That sounds like bullshit, Eddie.**

“Not according to Nana Brock,” Eddie laughed, “but it’s actually just because they’re fresh.”

 **You should make fresh pancakes more often,** Venom decided before their drama came back from the break and distracted them.

Between the taste of chocolate in Eddie’s mouth and the petty issues of the people on the television, Venom relaxed even though they were exposed on their host’s flank. It was peaceful. Venom had never felt less alone, which made no sense. Eating breakfast and watching TV was something they did nearly every day. Sometimes Eddie wrote and Venom had to watch from the corner of his eyes and make sure he finished breakfast before lunchtime, but that had never felt any different than when they both paid attention to the drama and Eddie ate without prompting.

It must be the feeling of Eddie's skin under the membrane they formed over his side Venom decided. Somehow it made them feel warmer even though that made no sense. They shifted idly and poured more of themselves down Eddie’s flank, covering his right hip, the lower right of his abdomen, pooling in his lap and forming a barrier over his clothing.

The not alone feeling intensified. Maybe there was something to the thoughts Eddie’d had earlier about safety, and companionship, and freedom.

 _This is nice,_ Eddie thought where they could hear without prying, and then without warning he ran his palm over their external mass.

It should have been rough and irritating against their unguarded volume like the cloth had been, but instead the ridges of Eddie’s palm and fingers tugged at and soothed their membrane. Eddie’s skin left behind oils full of chemical messengers and scents that tingled pleasantly against them. Venom had never felt anything like it.

“Sorry! I wasn't--”

 **Do that again** , they demanded before Eddie could finish apologizing.

Hesitantly, he ran his hand down them again, and, even though it wasn’t as smooth, it felt just as nice.

“Do you like that?” Eddie asked as he ran his hand over them a third time.

 **Yes, it is like** \--they recalled the brief flickers of memory that Eddie had shown them, fingers trailing over skin, holding hands, a warm hug, and added their own memories of Eddie’s skin wrapped in their self, the delicate spark of nerves in Eddie’s fingertips, the strong pulse of Eddie’s heart.

“Wow,” Eddie breathed. “What about this?” Instead of his palm, Eddie trailed the tips of his fingers against them.

It was similar, but concentrated to five points of touch which left trails of sensation like the afterimage of stars at night.

 **More, please,** Venom requested.

The two of them spent half an hour on the couch, ignoring the television and trying out different touches. Eventually, Venom decided that they liked broad pressure the most. The sensation wasn’t as concentrated as Eddie’s fingertips or as sharp as his nails, which had been uncomfortably close to claws and teeth, and Eddie’s palm left traces of himself all over their mass.

They had missed the end of their drama, but Venom couldn’t bring themself to care as Eddie stood up, still absently running his hand along them. 

“You didn’t know what you were missing out on, did you?” Eddie asked as he carried the plate to the sink.

 **I did not,** Venom admitted and pressed into Eddie's hand as he ran it along them.

“What makes my hand better than my shirt?”

It was the heat, the texture, the hint of reflected sensation, and the taste that Venom had decided made the difference. But they didn’t tell Eddie that.

 **There’s a secret ingredient,** they said instead.

“Really?” Eddie laughed as he scrubbed the dishes from breakfast and last night’s dinner.

**Yes.**

“If you say so.” 

**I do,** they insisted, and extended tendrils out to help.

“Thanks,” Eddie smiled and filled his bloodstream with gratefulness, contentment, and love.

Between the two of them, the dishes went quickly and when they finished Venom poked a head out of the mass they’d left on Eddie’s side.

 **“I never got to ask my question,”** They prompted.

“Huh,” Eddie’s mind reviewed what he remembered of the past few hours. “I guess you didn’t, ask away.”

 **“Can I,”** Venom paused because it was dramatic and that was what they did with big questions on the TV drama, **“grow your gallbladder back?”**

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are very welcome. Feel free to hit me up on [tumblr](https://bakageta.tumblr.com/).


End file.
